I have done my best in this book to recreate the events that took place during that fateful summer and autumn, and to stick to the historical details that have survived. I apologise now for any errors that I may have made. Many of the characters in the book were real people; these include Publius Quinctilius Varus, Arminius, Lucius Seius Tubero, Gaius Numonius Vala, Lucius Nonius Asprenas, Lucius Caedicius, Marcus Caelius, Ceionius, Lucius Eggius, Segimer, Segestes, Maroboduus, Fabricius and Flavus. Even lowly soldiers such as Marcus Aius, Cessorinius Ammausias and Marcus Crassus Fenestela existed. (More of Aius and Ammausias anon.) Centurion Tullus is my invention; so too are Aristides, Maelo, Degmar and the soldiers of Tullus’ century.
It’s annoying that almost no ‘real’ tribal names of the time survive. By necessity, I invented Osbert, Degmar and Aelwird. Because I used name stems from the German Dark Age era, I hope they sound authentic. Arminius and Segimundus are clearly Romanised versions of German names. Arminius’ real name may have been ‘Armin’ or ‘Ermin’ – we are not sure. When I began the book, I chose the latter when he was among his own kind, and ‘Arminius’ when he was with the Romans. In fact I wrote the entire story in this way. My editor was adamant, however, that to give him two names would confuse the reader. There were several long discussions about it, but in the end, she persuaded me to change his name to Arminius throughout – apart from one mention, in the prologue. I hope this move doesn’t make him sound ‘too Roman’.
The bloody sacrifice in the book’s prologue is fictitious, but the ritual described within it, of human sacrifice by German tribesmen, is not. The Germanic tribes were known to have held Donar, their thunder god, in particular esteem. The sounds made by sacred horses are also recorded as being important to the Germans’ priests. The tribes’ way of life and social customs are not well known, sadly, but the details of their power structure, houses, weapons and agriculture, and the local fauna and flora that I have described, are accurate according to my research. For example, the German method of execution using a wicker hurdle in the bog is recorded. So too are the broad strokes of Arminius’ childhood and early life. The word ‘berserker’ wasn’t used at the time, but it wasn’t unusual for some warriors to fight naked, and to lead the fight to the enemy.
The construction of the mighty Roman forts along the River Rhine began in the last two decades of the first century BC. They stood for many years and sometimes centuries. Castra Vetera, in which Tullus was stationed, stood on the Fürstenberg hill, a short distance south of the modern German town of Xanten. It’s used as farmland now, but its amphitheatre, still in use as a theatre, can be visited. Nearby is a truly impressive archaeological park that is situated on the site of Colonia Ulpia Traiana, the town that grew up after Vetera. It’s by no means certain that the Eighteenth Legion was stationed at Vetera, but it’s considered likely thanks to the tombstone of Marcus Caelius, most senior centurion of the unit, which was discovered in the area of Xanten. His is the only known memorial to a soldier lost at the Teutoburg. There were bridges over the Rhine at Vetera, spanning the midstream islands. The inscription I described does exist, but on the still-standing Alcántara Bridge in Spain, erected by the order of the emperor Trajan.
It is possible that Mogontiacum (Mainz) may have been the home of the Nineteenth, but it’s unclear where the Seventeenth was based. The location of many Roman forts within Germany is known, but their names are not. The town of Haltern-am-See may have been Aliso, but we can’t be sure. The camp called Porta Westfalica (a modern name despite the Latin sound) may have been Varus’ summer camp, or – more likely – may not. The town of Waldgirmes is the site of the Roman settlement with the large forum and municipal buildings mentioned in the book, but my name of Pons Laugona is invented (I thought it apt because the local river was known by the Romans as the Laugona).
The priest Segimundus did ally himself with Arminius, who must have been a most charismatic character. We are told that the Romans, and in particular Varus, placed implicit trust in him. However, let’s not fall for the age-old perception that Varus was a naïve, easily led man with poor judgement. He had a good political and military track record, and had crushed a widespread rebellion in Judaea just a few years before. Augustus was not in the habit of putting men he did not trust in positions of power, and the governorship of Germany was one of the empire’s most important jobs.
Tubero’s disastrous attack on the cattle-herding youths and the events that followed are fictitious. Varus’ summer campaign into Germany, the main purposes of which being to collect taxes and continue the area’s Romanisation, was real. He is known to have ignored Segestes’ warning about Arminius. The details of the doomed army’s march – from the slaughtering of the Roman soldiers at their roadside watch posts to the imagined rebellion by the Angrivarii and the route chosen by Arminius – are as the ancient texts describe. The tribes mentioned as being involved were not all definitively there – only three were – but for Arminius to have had enough warriors, more tribes must have taken part. The terrible weather may have been an invention by the Roman historians who wrote about the battle, to make the scene more doom-laden, more dramatic, but northern Germany is prone to severe storms in the autumn, and the drainage ditches found behind the German earthenworks at the Kalkriese battlefield (more of which anon) lend weight to this description.
If you were curious about the references to Tullus’ encounter with a soothsayer fifteen years before the battle, go and read The Shrine, my free digital short story, which is available on Amazon and other platforms.
As far as I know, there is no evidence for the use of whistles by Roman officers to relay commands. Trumpets of various types were used instead. However, whistles have been found all over the Empire, including in the vicinity of the legionary fortress at Regensburg, in Germany. It’s not too much of a jump to place one in Tullus’ hands during a battle. A whistle could have been very useful in getting the attention of those who were only a few steps away.
Most academics maintain that the visored Roman cavalry helmets were only for parade ground use, the main reason being their lack of vision. However, increasing numbers of reenactors who ride and train with replicas of these helmets, say that it is possible to charge and fight while wearing them. Think also of medieval knights, and the helmets they wore in battle!
I stayed true to the timeline of the ambush as we know it, and the individual events within it, such as the manner of the tribesmen’s attacks, the sounding of the barritus, the ditching of the Romans’ equipment, the legions’ cataclysmic losses, Vala’s failed attempt to escape with the cavalry, Varus’ suicide and the loss of one eagle in the bog. The gruesome mutilations of Roman prisoners, including the legionary who had his tongue cut out, are described in the histories. Aliso was besieged, yet some of the survivors of the ambush did make it inside the walls. Caedicius was the commander there, and he bravely led his garrison and some civilians to safety as a night storm raged. His ruse of making the Germans think that reinforcements were advancing from the Rhine is recorded – a stroke of desperate genius if there ever was one.
I’ve had great fun weaving real-life people into this book as minor characters, and also using Roman artefacts that have been discovered in that part of Germany. I have already mentioned Cessorinius Ammausias – he was an ursarius, not of the Eighteenth Legion but the later Thirtieth, and was stationed at Colonia Ulpia Traiana rather than Vetera. A legionary called Marcus Aius, of Fabricius’ century, lost two bronze armour fasteners at the Kalkriese battlefield – they were found some distance apart, as if they had fallen from a running man’s purse. It was my invention to have Piso win them at dice. The cavalry helmet carried and lost by Tubero is based on the iconic helmet facepiece that was found at Kalkriese. The spices offered to Piso when he goes in search of wine aren’t a result of my crazed imagination: peppercorns and coriander seeds – originating in India – have been found in the sewers of Roman camps in Germany, dating from as early as 11 BC. The large wooden
wine barrels mentioned in Aliso are contemporary with ones found in nearby Oberaden. The soldiers’ coin hoards mentioned by Caedicius as being left under barracks’ floors have their basis in a real example, on display in the Haltern-am-See museum, clay pot and all. You can also see vicious-spiked caltrops there, similar to the ones used by the legionaries as they escaped.
Being a writer of historical fiction is a real privilege, because it means that one of my passions in life – history – is now my day job. Most of the time, my work is an absolute joy, which makes me feel even luckier, but with it comes a somewhat unexpected duty of care – that of being as ‘true’ to history as I can. This is a feeling that has grown on me since my first few books were published, and I hope it shows in my writing.
It has come about for several reasons, one of which is the amount of time that I’ve spent wearing the gear of an ancient Roman soldier, while training for and taking part in two long-distance charity walks. (With a little bit of luck, you will soon see The Road to Rome, the film of our 2014 #RomaniWalk, narrated by Sir Ian McKellen, on a TV channel near you! Here I must also mention, and thank, the hundreds of people who gave so generously to our campaign. The character of Maelo is loosely based on Gwilym Williams, who won a competition I ran during the fundraising.) By my rough estimate, I have now walked more than 800 kilometres wearing equipment and armour that weighs between 15 and 26 kilograms – the weight depending on stage of training/weather/my mood and energy levels. This experience has informed my writing a great deal, and the details you read about marching are, for the most part, direct experience. For example, I believe (as do many re-enactors) that marching Roman soldiers wore their shields on their backs. It’s comfortable to do so, and the shield can be unslung and held ready to fight in less than twenty seconds. I’ve tried walking with the shield in my right hand – as do the legionaries depicted on Trajan’s column and other monuments – and found that it’s crippling after only a short distance. Slinging it over one shoulder by a strap doesn’t work that well either. I think that the ancient portrayals were an artistic conceit to allow the viewer to better picture the soldiers and their equipment.
Live combat is another matter. Even if I could experience the gut-wrenching fear and the utter savagery, I wouldn’t want to do so, but my experiences as a veterinary student in Africa mean that I know how to slaughter a goat with a sharp knife. It can’t be that different (even if it’s psychologically far worse) to do the same to a human. It’s easier than you think to cut a throat and take a blade right to the spinal column.
Cursing: it will not surprise you that the Romans were fond – very fond – of swearing. Some of their favourite oaths revolved around the ‘C’ word, which is regarded by many as one of the worst curse words around. In previous books, therefore, I tended to use the ‘F’ word (although less attested, there is a Latin verb, futuere). In this book, I felt it apt to use the ‘C’ word – albeit sparingly. (In an aside, I also had Tullus use the term ‘brother’ when talking to his men because it is authentic: there are recorded instances of centurions referring to their soldiers in this way.)
Trying to recreate how life might have been is helped by travelling to the places, or the general areas, where the historical events took place. I have been to most of the locations in my books, and walked the ground there. Doing this is a great help when creating the various scenes in the story. As I write this in November 2014, I have just returned from an eight-day trip to Germany, during which I drove, cycled and walked more than a thousand kilometres along the River Rhine, from Xanten in the north down as far as Mainz. On this journey, I visited many museums, the wonderful archaeological park at Xanten, and the sites of several Roman forts. The rich variety of ancient artefacts in Germany, both military and civilian, is really impressive, and set my mind racing with new ideas.
I cannot recommend enough a visit to the park in Xanten, where you can see accurate reconstructions of a three-storey gate to the town, a sizeable section of its wall, the large amphitheatre, workshops, guesthouse and a tavern and restaurant that are open for business. Not far to the east is one of the best Roman museums I have visited, in the town of Haltern-am-See. Some hundred kilometres further inland is the amazing Kalkriese battlefield, thought for some years to be the actual site of the Teutoburg Forest. In recent years, that theory has fallen away somewhat, thanks to the wealth of coins found there that date to the late first century BC. Regardless of this, the location did see a tribal ambush on Roman forces. The reconstructed German fortifications and the wealth of objects in the museum there cannot fail to fire one’s imagination about the real battle.
The Roman museums in Cologne, Bonn and Mainz are also excellent, each for their own reasons. I feel the Museum of Ancient Shipbuilding in Mainz deserves a special mention, because of its rare finds of Roman river vessels and the extraordinary reconstructions of two of them. As for the entirely reconstructed second century AD fort at Saalburg, all I can say is, ‘Go!’ If you’re into hiking or cycling, you can visit Saalburg on part of the 560-kilometre track that leads along the German Limes, the border defences that linked the Rhine and the Danube for two centuries.
The ancient texts provide another route to the past. If it weren’t for Tacitus, Florus, Velleius Paterculus, Cassius Dio and Pliny, I would have been lost when it came to writing this book. Their words, often rather ‘Rome-aggrandising’, have to be taken with a pinch of salt, but they are still of great value when it comes to research and ‘picturing the past’. Textbooks are also indispensable. A bibliography of those I used while writing Eagles at War would run to several pages, so I will only mention the most important, in alphabetical order by author: Handbook to Legionary Fortresses by M. C. Bishop; Roman Military Equipment by M. C. Bishop and J. C. N. Coulston; Greece and Rome at War by Peter Connolly; The Complete Roman Army by Adrian Goldsworthy; Rome’s Greatest Defeat: Massacre in the Teutoburg Forest by Adrian Murdoch; Eager for Glory: The Untold story of Drusus the Elder, Germanicus, and Roman Soldier versus Germanic Warrior, all by Lindsay Powell; The Varian Disaster (multiple authors), a special edition of Ancient Warfare magazine. I’d like to mention the publishers Osprey and Karwansaray, whose publications are of frequent help, and the ever-useful Oxford Classical Dictionary.
Thanks, as always, to the members of www.romanarmy.com, for their rapid answers to my odd questions, and to Paul Harston and the legionaries of Roman Tours UK, for the same, and for agreeing to provide men and materials for the covers of this and the next two volumes in the trilogy. Go, Roland! Paul Karremans of the Gemina Project in the Netherlands deserves a special mention too, and huge thanks, for the generous loan of his re-enactment unit’s eagle. Dank u wel, Paul. I want to thank Adrian Murdoch and Lindsay Powell, mentioned above, for their patience, knowledge and generosity with their time. Not only did they help me with information during many stages of the writing process, and answer my frequent questions, but they were kind enough to read the manuscript when it was done, and to provide further words of wisdom. You are both true gentlemen. I’m also indebted to Jenny Dolfen, the talented German writer and illustrator, for her help with Germanic names.
I owe gratitude to a legion of people at my publishers, Random House. Selina Walker, my wonderful editor, possesses an eagle eye quite like no other. This book would be a much lesser creature if it weren’t for her. Thank you, Selina. Rose Tremlett, Richard Ogle, Aslan Byrne, Nathaniel Alcaraz-Stapleton, Vincent Kelleher and David Parrish, thank you! You all work so hard to ensure that my books do well. Gratitude also to my foreign publishers, in particular to Carol Paris and her team at Ediciones B in Spain, and to Keith Kahla and his colleagues at St. Martin’s Press in the United States.
Other people must be named, and thanked: Charlie Viney, my superlative agent. Richenda Todd, my copy editor, a real star. Claire Wheller, the best sports physio in the world. Arthur O’Connor, an old friend, for his criticism of, and improvements to, my stories. Massive thanks also to you, my wonderful readers. It’s yo
u who keep me in a job, which makes me more grateful than you could know. Anything not to go back to veterinary medicine! Your emails from around the world, and contacts on Facebook and Twitter, brighten up my days: please keep them coming. Last, but most definitely not least, I want to thank Sair, my wonderful wife, and Ferdia and Pippa, my beautiful children, for the boundless love and joy that they bring into my world.
Ways to contact me:
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Glossary
acetum: sour wine, the universal beverage served to legionaries. Also the word for vinegar, the most common disinfectant used by Roman surgeons. Vinegar is excellent at killing bacteria, and its widespread use in western medicine continued until late in the nineteenth century.
alae (sing. ala): auxiliary cavalry units, which were used as support troops to the legions, and commanded by prefects, equestrian officers. The alae were of varying strength, either quingenary (512 riders in 16 turmae) or milliary (768 in 32 turmae). It’s possible that Arminius may have commanded such a unit, and that’s how I chose to portray him. (See also the entry for turma.)
Alara: the River Aller.
Albis: the River Elbe.
Amisia: the River Ems.
amphora (pl. amphorae): a two-handled clay vessel with a narrow neck and tapering base used to store wine, olive oil and other produce. Of many sizes, including vessels that are larger than a man, amphorae were heavily used in long-distance transport.
aquilifer (pl. aquiliferi): the standard-bearer for the aquila, or eagle, of a legion. The images surviving today show the aquilifer bare-headed, leading some to suppose that this was always the case. In combat, however, this would have been too dangerous; it’s probable that the aquilifer did use a helmet. We do not know either if he wore an animal skin, as the signifer (see entry below) did, but it is a common interpretation. The armour was often scale, and the shield probably a small one, which could be carried without using the hands. During the early empire, the aquila was made of gold, and was mounted on a spiked wooden staff, allowing it to be shoved into the ground. Sometimes the staff had arms, which permitted it to be borne more easily. Even when damaged, the aquila was not destroyed, but repaired time and again. If lost in battle, the Romans would do almost anything to get the standard back, as you will read in the next book in this series. (See also the entry for legion.)